


in the cracks of light, i dreamed of you

by amyscascadingtabs



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Anxious Amy Santiago, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Feels, Married Life, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Parenthood, Toddlers, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28413966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyscascadingtabs/pseuds/amyscascadingtabs
Summary: “I’m weirdly tired, a few days late, and like you said, overemotional.” She tapes the folded edges of the paper together. “I recognize it, is all I’m saying.”“Ames, are you serious?” Jake’s staring at her, eyes gleaming. “That’s incredible!”“I just said a,don’t go crazy,and b,I don’t know.”It's two days before Christmas. Amy's feeling weird, but it's probably nothing - right?
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 24
Kudos: 100





	in the cracks of light, i dreamed of you

**Author's Note:**

> this was so supposed to be ready christmas day but hey. merry slightly belated christmas!!!! 
> 
> title from taylor's swift evermore because if i can title something from a taylor swift song, i will.

**december 23rd, 2021.**

Amy starts getting suspicious when she breaks down in tears for the third time that day at half-past ten in the morning.

Of course, there’s little time to dig deeper in mentioned suspicion, because the next moment she has to dry her tears (this time, they're because the bread she spent all morning on came out burnt, meaning she’s wasted invaluable Christmas prep time) and go get her crying fourteen-month-old who just woke up waytoo early from his morning nap. She figures it's her own fault for trying to get things done while being alone with Mac in the first place, but they are two days away from hosting Christmas dinner with the available Santiagos in their apartment, and Amy is at least four binder sections behind on her planning. Jake promised to help out, and he has been, but there's only so much either of them can get done when there's a wild toddler with separation anxiety and a newfound passion for running craving their attention every waking moment. Having a one-year-old is amazing and rewarding in new ways every day, but Amy swears she's never been so tired before in her life.

It's actually _weird_ how tired she is. She's been noticing it for a week or two, but she's tried to ignore it. Constant exhaustion is part of parenthood, and she's juggling a demanding job and a home as well, but this is unlike her. It's the kind of exhaustion not even coffee can’t seem to combat, and on top of it, she’s had weird headaches for days and the smallest things are starting to make her cry. It's eerily similar to how she felt the last time she turned out to be pregnant, Amy knows, but she's trying to ignore that thought. She's stressed out over hosting Christmas on the first year Mac is old enough to vaguely understand what's happening. She's a sensitive person. She’s always been emotional, and motherhood and over a year of sleep deprivation has only made it more intense. _It's probably nothing_.

Mac is standing up in his cot when she comes in, pressing his face against the side like a prisoner behind bars. It's sodramatic, it makes her laugh. There’s little doubt about which parent her son inherited his love for attention from.

“A little overtired, are we?” Mac reaches for her and Amy scoops him up in her arms. “It’s okay, baby.”

Mac doesn't seem convinced, his fist clutching firmly around her ponytail and getting baby drool in her hair. _So much for washing it earlier_ , Amy thinks, and even that makes her frustrated. Sighing, she gets the well-used unicorn lovey and pacifier from his cot and goes to put him to sleep in her and Jake’s bed. 

There's only ever one effective method when he wakes up too early from naps; to keep him company. Amy lays down on the bed with her son, letting him snuggle as close to her as he can get, and takes a deep breath when his warm exhales start to tickle her neck. It may be time-consuming, and there may be a neverending to-do-list in her phone she should be dealing with, but at least it's a foolproof relaxation method. While Mac’s hand rests on her cheek as if to make sure she's not slipping away, and his long eyelashes flutter before his eyes fall back shut, Amy finally allows herself to start thinking. 

It’s not that she doesn't _want_ to have another baby. Truthfully, she really does, despite how little sleep she's gotten in the last year and how she swore she would never have another when Mac was in his colicky phase. Motherhood is the best thing she's ever done, even on its most intense days, because every meltdown and painstakingly early wake-up call is outweighed times a thousand for every laugh, every hug, and every new word Mac learns. He’s worth it all, and she knows another child would be, too.

She and Jake did talk about two kids before they started trying, but it's not been brought up since. She can't imagine Jake would be upset if she was actually pregnant, but that's an _if_ , and what if their opinions on when to have kids are going to differ again? She’s thirty-eight now; a second baby feels like now or never.

Mac’s pacifier has fallen out of his mouth. He hasn't even noticed it, and his hand still hasn't left her cheek. Amy digs her nose in his neck ever-so-carefully, enjoying her chance to snuggle him while he's still for a moment, and she’s suddenly glad he didn't want to nap on his own. How could she ever say no to this? How could she ever not want more of it? 

She has other fears when it comes to another child. Few of them are about the logistics of it; she grew up with seven brothers, after all. She knows space can always be made, plans can always be changed and hearts can always grow. If they do have another one, Amy knows they’ll be fine; her worries are more about whether they _are_.

The last time they tried to get pregnant, she went overboard and stressed both herself and Jake out in the process. Even if it was worth it in the end, she's promised herself never to do that to herself or them again. Either they have a second baby by chance, or they just don't. Amy's made peace with that plan. 

She supposes that if shewere to already _be_ pregnant, the trying part wouldn't be an issue. But she doesn't know if she is, and the thought of taking a test makes her chest uncomfortably tight. Taking a test means she might face a negative. After all the single lines and _not pregnant_ -s she's seen, she doesn’t want to see another. Even after having Mac, the thought is enough to bring back the familiar heartbreak.

She doesn't know what to do. Instead, she closes her eyes, knowing full well Mac is going to wake up the second she tries to move anyway, and allows herself to fall asleep.

The rest of the day is spent trying to get as much of her to-do-list done as possible while entertaining a toddler at the same time. She manages to involve Mac in another try of bread-baking, giving him his own ball of dough to play with, and although the flour gets in his hair and he drops it on the floor a few times, he’s very proud of himself. They even try to tidy the apartment together, with Mac happily putting things in boxes even if they’re not necessarily the right ones. Somehow, Amy makes it through half of the list before Jake gets home, and it’s not as good as she’d hoped but it’s not nothing, either. Mac is happy, and that’s what matters.

She crashes on the couch while Jake takes bath duty, ignoring the fact that she hasn’t even thought about dinner for them. She does feel kind of queasy, but she’s probably imagining it.

Jake confronts her about it the moment they’ve put Mac to bed.

“Something’s up with you,” he states plainly before grabbing one of the gifts from the to-be-wrapped pile and rolling out some wrapping paper. “I don’t know what, but it’s something.”

“Christmas stress,” she mutters. “Give that gift back. You’re on tape and string-cutting, I don’t trust your wrapping skills.”

“I thought you loved me,” he pouts, but gives it back. “And it’s something else. Stressed-out you gets frenzied and slightly violent, not sleepy and overemotional.”

“I do love you. Just not enough to let you wrap all these gifts.” She measures out the wrapping paper around the carton, cutting with hyperfocus. “Fine. It might be something else, but I don’t even know if it is… anything. Or that.”

“Tell me, Santiago.”

He still calls her Santiago sometimes. Mostly when he wants to tease her, but also when he wants to make her smile, knowing it brings her back to the days before they’d even confessed their feelings. It makes the corners of her mouth twitch this time, too.

“Okay, but you have to promise me not to go crazy if I tell you. Give me the tape.”

Jake nods and measures out a piece. Amy shakes her head.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud, but… I think I might be pregnant.”

She almost whispers the words. Jake hears her anyway.

“Wait, really?”

“I’m weirdly tired, a few days late, and like you said, overemotional.” She tapes the folded edges of the paper together. “I recognize it, is all I’m saying.”

“Ames, are you serious?” Jake’s staring at her, eyes gleaming. “That’s incredible!”

“I justsaid a, _don’t go crazy_ , and b, _I don’t know_.”

“But you can just take a test, right?” Jake seems to have forgotten all about the child sleeping only a door away. Amy points to the baby monitor with her elbow, shushing him.

“It’s not that easy.”

“It _is_ that easy, though,” he half-whispers. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because they’re just symptoms! It could be stress and I could get my period tomorrow. I don’t want to get my hopes up only to be disappointed.”

Jake squints at her. “So you don’t want to take a test because you’re scared it’ll be negative?”

“I know it’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb. Well, it’s a little dumb. But I get it. Don’t you kind of need to know, though?”

“Eventually.” She ties the bow on the first gift, admiring it for a moment before putting it aside on the dinner table. “I just don’t want it to ruin Christmas.”

“But it could make Christmas that much better. And it’s already pretty great.” Jake grins, looking very proud of himself. “Okay… how about you take it, I look at it, and keep it a secret until after Christmas?”

She laughs. “You could never keep that secret.”

“I could try!”

“I’d go crazy trying to figure it out if I knew you knew.” Amy shakes her head, exhaling deeply. “Fine. I’ll take a test as soon as Christmas is over, okay?”

“Okay.”

Meeting the unbridled enthusiasm in his eyes and the contagious smile, she suddenly feels less worried. _One less fear to consider._ “You’d really be happy if it was positive, though?”

“I really, really, would.”

She leans forward on her elbows at that, kissing him soft but deep over the table. He’s still grinning when they pull apart.

“Okay, focus up. We have at least twenty more gifts to wrap before we can even think about going to bed.”

**december 24th, 2021.**

When she wakes up by herself the next morning, the first thing Amy feels is confusion. She reaches for the baby monitor, only to find the display showing a soundly sleeping Mac with one fist closed around the unicorn lovey and his butt up like he’s trying to crawl in his sleep.

“Is he still sleeping?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what you did to him when he woke up at midnight, but it worked.“ She says, rolling over to Jake’s side of the bed. “Please take all the other nightly wakeups from now on, you’re so good at it.”

“Hmm, flattery will get you nowhere. What time is it?”

“Seven. I’d say that counts as sleeping in.” 

“Not bad.” Jake stretches and turns so he’s facing her. His hair is still rumpled from sleep, turning it into the adorable curly mess she can never resist running her fingers through when they cuddle, and he’s got that slight stubble, playful charm about him that never fails to disarm her.

“Good morning, babe.”

“Mm, good morning.” She pecks his lips. “Ready for a busy day?”

“Not quite yet,” he says, faking a yawn. “Stay in bed until then?”

The warmth underneath the covers, the hint of a smirk on his lips as she slides her legs between his, and the spark of excitement she feels at the thought of some precious _alone time_ before they officially start the day, make the offer an all too enticing one to resist.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

He winks, running his hand slowly under the hem of her t-shirt, over her stomach and rib cage. “We could always hope Mac sleeps a while longer, right?”

Amy pulls the t-shirt completely over her head, laughing as Jake’s eyes grow wider in reaction. “That, we definitely could.”

“Just a question,” Jake says after, when Mac starts chatting away to himself on the monitor and Amy throws on her dressing gown to go get him. “Am I imagining it, or did your boobs get bigger?”

She just rolls her eyes at him, shaking her head. 

It takes her most of the day to realize he might be right. She’s trying on the dress she had planned for tonight’s dinner at Christian’s house, and finds that although it still fits over her chest, the cleavage looks ridiculous. Frustrated, she tries out another, only to find herself with the same problem. It's too tight, almost feeling painful. Biting her lip, she thinks _pregnancy symptom_ , and suddenly there's a part of her wanting to run down to the nearest pharmacy and get every brand. It's brief, but for a second, there's excitement. _Maybe it could be a positive_. 

There's no time, though. Amy opts for a pair of fancier dress pants and a stretchier, dark red blouse with golden accessories instead, and then it's time to go.

The drive to Christian’s new house on Long Island is only a little over an hour and a half, but when you have to listen to the _Peppa Pig_ -album during the whole thing, Amy thinks it feels at least twice that. She's considering a strongly worded letter to the creators already after the ten-minute mark, criticizing them for making music that hurts the ears of already hard-working toddler parents, but then Mac’s perfect giggles can be heard from the back of the car, and it's worth it. Amy still draws a sigh of relief once they park outside her brother's house, and not just because the car ride has brought back that same feeling of queasiness she felt yesterday.

Luckily, it's easy enough to ignore. There are already three Santiago kids greeting them in the doorway, excited to play with Mac, and it doesn't take long for any shy tendencies to fade away from his side. Jake and Amy spend the first part of the evening taking turns chasing him around to make sure he’s not going too close to the stairs or fireplace, but at least Mac is loving life trying to run after the five-year-olds in the house. It’s a relief when his energy eventually runs out after dinner and he seeks himself to Jake, stretching his arms up and then falling asleep in minutes with his head on Jake’s shoulder. Finally, Amy has a chance to capture the picture she was planning to take before they left of father and son in their matching nice outfits, Mac’s red and white checkered shirt a copy of Jake’s. 

“The cutest,” she tells them, and Jake nods before kissing the top of Mac’s head.

“Beautiful family,” Victor agrees from the opposite couch. “You should be in the picture too, mija, let me take it.”

Surprised, Amy gives him the phone, moving so she can be in the frame for a rare proper picture of the whole family. _Her family_. Some days she still can’t believe she has this now, and if the picture comes out cheesy it’s because that’s how she feels, unable to stop herself from smiling as she looks at them.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Simon says as he snatches the phone from Victor’s hand, scrolling through the shots. “You guys actually _are_ cute.”

“What’s with the tone of surprise?” Amy asks, raising her eyebrows at her youngest brother, but he just gives her a goofy grin and hands her the phone back. 

“Just saying. You should make more.”

She can feel Jake freeze next to her, reacting to the sensitive comment before she does.

“For real,” Christian pipes up from the other side of the room. “Close in age is always best – it’s tough, but they get best friends for life! Plus, you want to get the toddler years over at once, so you can sleep again once they’re over.”

Amy takes a deep breath. Jake is looking at her, phrasing the unworded question about whether she needs him to defend her. She never really told most of her family about their struggles to conceive, finding it too taboo in a family of eight children, so naturally, they don’t know about her fears of not being able to have more, either. 

“That’s a pretty sensitive question,” she says simply, hoping that will be the end of it. 

“Is it?” Christian shrugs, but Simon looks confounded. Jake death-glares him subtly.

“It’s just a pretty bold assumption that everyone wants more than one kid,” he says, leaving it at that. Not the truth, but a swift decline for follow-up questions. Amy squeezes his hand as a silent _thank you_. 

“That was so awkward,” she tells Jake as they’re getting into the car, fastening a still sleeping Mac in his car seat. “God, I hate that question.”

“I know you do.”

“Thanks for saving me with that half-lie. I owe you one.” 

“No worries, babe. Although I still think you should take that test.”

She sighs, holding one of Mac’s little hands in hers. His eyelids flutter, and for a moment she worries he's about to wake up, but he just seems to be dreaming. “I know.”

“I mean, it's one of two answers. What if it's a positive, Ames?”

“I _know_!” Her voice is too loud and Mac flinches. “I’m just afraid.”

In the rearview mirror, she can see his forehead crease. “Afraid of what?”

“Of wanting it too much,” she whispers this time. “I know it's different. I know we have Mac now, and he's better than anything we could have dreamed of. But whenever I think about it, I can feel that same obsession creeping in, and…” Amy shakes her head. “I don't want to go crazy again. Once was enough.”

“So you’re scared if you see a negative test, it's going to spin you right back into nacho-bans and UD alarms all over again.”

“Pretty much.”

“And you don't think you might be overthinking this slightly.”

“It’s the only way of thinking I have available!”

Jake chuckles, then clears his throat. “Sorry, babe. Not funny. I just kind of want to know, too.”

“As soon as Christmas is over,” she says. “I promise.”

Mac stays asleep for the whole car ride home. Amy doesn’t let go of his hand for a moment of it, watching as the lights from passing cars and streetlights move over his face. He still looks like a baby when he sleeps, she thinks, even if he’s growing more and more into a tiny person each day. It’s the best thing ever, watching him figure out new things and interact with the world around him, but Amy would be lying if she said it isn’t without a sting in her heart she’s watched the chubby baby cheeks thin out and become the face of a child and not an infant. She still kisses them daily, even if he squirms a lot more today. 

She desperately wants to experience the whole thing again – just one more time, knowing now how quickly it all moves. She can’t pretend to be indifferent about it. 

**december 25th, 2021.**

After being up until one in the morning, filling stockings and going through who’s bringing what for Christmas dinner, Amy doesn’t expect to be the first one awake on Christmas morning. Still, when she wakes up at five and rolls over to check the monitor, her body’s wide awake. Closing her eyes again feels pointless, and she’s briefly annoyed at the sight of Jake snoozing peacefully next to her.

She goes through the to-do-list in her phone, wondering if it’s the stress that keeps her up, but so far everything looks to be magically on track after two days of hard work. The tree is decorated, the gifts are wrapped, she managed not to burn the latest batch of bread she made and after a lot of struggle with a sabotaging one-year-old, the apartment should be clean enough for Camila Santiago’s scrutiny. Amy’s even given up and _bought_ the coffee her mother likes, although she has a suspicion she’ll still bring her own. Everything is fixed. The first Christmas Mac is old enough to understand what’s happening is on track to be _perfect_ ; Amy’s made sure of it. There’s only one thing that’s still bothering her.

Curious, she checks the period tracker app to remember how many days it’s really been, feeling a jolt of excitement at the sight of _day 34._ Maybe, just maybe, it could be something. 

She thinks of the time she found out about Mac, so exhausted from trying she didn’t dare to hope until she saw the test with her own eyes. It’s happened before. It could happen again. There are symptoms and clues telling her it might already _be_ happening again. Somewhere inside her, a nervous hope flickers, and it’s impossible to go back to sleep.

Jake grunts in his sleep next to her, and Amy smiles as she thinks that no matter the results, they could handle it. They handled it last time, even if it was hard, and she knows if they had to, they could again. She desperately doesn’t want to repeat it, but she would again for Mac, and knowing how sweet the reward is, she thinks she might for another child, too. Although – perhaps – she wouldn’t have to. 

“Jake?”

She shakes him lightly, getting another mumbled grunt in response.

“Jake, come on.”

“Whaddisit?” 

“Let’s just do it.”

“What?” 

“Let’s just take the damn test.”

“I’m proud of you,” Jake tells her as she finds an unexpired test at the back of the bathroom cabinet. 

“We’ll see about that,” she mumbles, feeling her heart pound. “Hold my hand?”

“Of course. Wait.” Jake squints. “You want me to hold your hand while you pee?”

“No. Or yes. Kind of, but don’t actually. Just while we wait.”

“Gotcha.”

She tries to focus on her breathing as puts down the test on the toilet lid and washes her hands, squeezing Jake’s hand tight as they sit down on the edge of the bathtub.

“You know,” he says, a source of calm when her thoughts feel like a whirlwind, “if it _is_ negative, we can always try again. We can go right back to your doctor and ask for the hormones that worked last time. We make the rules, remember?”

“Yeah.” Amy forces a smile. “I remember.”

“How long do we have to wait?”

“Three minutes.”

“Fuck, that’s so long.”

“Title of your -” She begins, but doesn’t have time to finish the sentence before Mac starts crying from his room. Amy gives Jake a panicked look. 

“I’ll go get him,” he says, disappearing out the room and returning the next moment with a red-faced, pouting Mac who seems to have woken up in the worst morning mood ever, clutching Jake’s t-shirt with both hands. As soon as she sees him, even when he’s in his grumpiest mood, she forgets all about her anxiety. 

Jake tries to sit down with him, but as soon as he does, Mac decides he has another goal in mind. He wriggles out of Jake’s arms, and before they realize what he’s curious about, he’s gone right for the fascinating white-and-pink plastic stick on top of the toilet lid and chucked it to the floor with a laugh. Somehow, he does it with such power that the test glides underneath the bathtub, clattering against the tiles.

Amy and Jake just stare at their son, who is now giggling and looks very happy with himself.

“Maybe.. take another test?” Jake suggests, but Amy shakes her head.

“This was the only one I had! I’m not running to the store.”

Just that moment, the timer on Amy’s phone rings. 

“Guess we’ll have to dig it out, then”, he shrugs, shaking his head lovingly at Mac. “You said you wanted more kids, Ames?”

“So did you,” she reminds him as he lies down on his stomach and peers underneath the bathtub. 

“Guess that's true. Okay, here we go.”

A couple of grossed-out facial expressions later, with a still laughing Mac watching from Amy’s arms, Jake pulls out the upside-down, now pretty grimy, test. Mac reaches for it again, protesting when Jake holds it above his head.

“Sorry, bud, but I think this belongs to mama.”

“You read it,” Amy says, tickling Mac to distract him. “So? What does it say?”

Turning it in his hand, Jake grins. “Well, you passed.”

“That's not an answer.”

“Fine. You're pregnant, then. Two lines.” He turns it so she can see, showing her two bright pink lines next to each other.

“Wait, _what_?” 

“Looks like you got another Christmas present there, bud.” Jake ruffles Mac’s hair. “Even if you're trying to sabotage it so far.”

“I don't understand.” Amy shakes her head. “It just happened?”

“Looks like we got ourselves our very own Christmas miracle, huh?”

Once he says that, it's like he breaks through the initial layer of shock, and her eyes tear up. “Looks like we did.”

Still holding Mac, she tries to take any of it in. If everything goes well, she'll get to be a mother of two. Twice the happiness, love, and chaos. Another thought hits her.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Christmas is going to take _twice_ as long to prepare for next year.”

~

**Author's Note:**

> okay so full honesty i was hesitant about posting this because it just didn't really turn out as i imagined it from the start and it just felt a little... off, to me? but i thought about it way too long and there's still so much cuteness in this so eh, here it goes anyway! not everything has to come out perfect all the time!
> 
> i still hope you enjoyed, kudos and comments always appreciated if you did ❤️


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